


the words hung above, but never would form

by grendelsmom



Series: shard collection - the 120s [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Unrequited Crush, aka the gay experience, also in no way related to that scene between Matteo und Jonas in the first episode of s3 of druck, alternatively: Ella is gay and in love, crushing on your best friend, just something short and cute but actually rather sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-08 18:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19475851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grendelsmom/pseuds/grendelsmom
Summary: Her bed is warm and soft and Leah, beside her, is strangely beautiful - yet the morning leaves a bittersweet taste in Ella's mouth.[58 - bittersweet]





	the words hung above, but never would form

**Author's Note:**

> title from "shrike" by hozier  
> fill for prompt number 58 "bittersweet" from my 120 prompts project

A dull throb greets Ella as she drifts back to reality like driftwood washed ashore, slowly forcing one eye open, then the other. Gently, the sunlight falls through a gap in the hastily drawn curtains, pours over the wooden floor and the white, fluffy carpet and climbs up Ella's bed, where it warms her toes, which peep out from under the thick blanket.

From her angle of view, she can guess that it's late morning, maybe early noon and groaning - because it's definitely too early anyway - she throws a hand over her eyes while the other blindly gropes for her cell phone on the bedside table. Finally, she finds the home button and peeks out between her fingers. Her too bright lock screen blinds her. 11:53 clock. Two unread messages. Ella moans again and drops the hand that's holding her phone.

For a brief moment, she thinks about pulling the blanket over her head, crawling back into the plump warmth of the dark, and perhaps sleeping another hour or two. But when she turns around and sees Leah lying on the other side of her bed, she cannot bring herself to close her eyes again.

Leah sleeps curled up like a cat, just as she did when they were both young. Her legs are tucked up, one hand under her head, the other stretched out on the pillow. Even in her sleep, her smooth, black hair falls neatly over her shoulders. Every strand exactly where it belongs, just as everything about Leah is always exactly where it belongs. Her dark eyelashes cast long shadows over her cheeks and Ella finds that her mouth has gone dry as her eyes follow the sweep of Leah's lips.

As if by magic, her hand wanders forward, hovering over Leah's, just inches away from brushing it. Ella knows exactly how it feels in hers, she has held it too often to forget the feeling - warm and soft and secure. She turns a little to better support herself and follows the dark lines that Leah's hair paints on the white pillow with her fingers.

Leah's eyelids twitch as Ella's fingers reach her cheek and gently stroke her, and for a moment Ella senses a cold panic, so sudden and so overwhelming that she does not dare to move, does not dare to breathe. Because she knows very well that the line on which she balances and swings dangerously is a thin one. And she has often enough played with the possibility of transgressing it to know that on the other side, loss would add to the disappointment and the heartache. Leah is not like her and Ella is aware of that - painfully, heartbreakingly aware.

But Leah's eyes do not open. Instead, she breathes in and out gently and presses her face deeper into the soft pillow, and Ella allows herself for a moment - just a single, tiny moment, for a stolen second - to imagine Leah opening her eyes - brown and warm and gorgeous - and she looking at her, in the way Ella always tries not to look at her. Leah would smile so that one can see the dimples in her cheeks, that Ella loves so much because they are so much Leah. She would put her hand in Ellas and lean forward and kiss her. And her lips would be soft and sweet, from the lip balms that Leah always carries with her, of summer, of strawberries or cherries.

Ella hears a cell phone vibrating behind her. Half-heartedly, she reaches for it. It's Leah's. "Lukas" flashes on the display, behind a red heart. Outside, the bare branches of the trees are blowing in the wind. Her mouth is bitter and sweet with dreamed memories. Ella rejects the call.


End file.
